


Pre-Funeral Celebrations

by dancing_moon



Category: Sailor Moon
Genre: Angst, M/M, My ancient fics, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2002-11-28
Updated: 2002-11-28
Packaged: 2017-10-17 20:01:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,505
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/180672
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dancing_moon/pseuds/dancing_moon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jadeite and Nephrite spend a final night together</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pre-Funeral Celebrations

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: Lime, dark, decently morbid... Probably very OOC as well. And some blood, but no real violence.  
> Feedback: Yes, onegai! This is my first attempt at something even resembling a lemon, and I'd be happy to get advice on where to improve  
> ^_^ All sorts of C&C is therefore welcomed... but flames will be responded to in the same mature fashion.  
> Disclaimer: Sailor Moon (c) Naoko Takeuchi, Kodansha Ltd. and Toei  
> Animations. Please don't sue me, I'm just a poor student.Authors note: I despise those Jadeite as a hyper-uke fics, and therefore decided to try my hand at writing about the (non-existing) relationship between the first two kings.

Pre-Funeral Celebrations

A funeral is the ceremony that is held when the body of someone who  
has died is buried or cremated  
\- Cobuild English Learner's Dictionary

Aged stone above me, dusky cold surrounding me. My eyes strain to  
discern the broken patterns in the ceiling far above, but there is not  
enough light, not even for my eyes though they carry their own evil  
illumination.  
Doesn't matter, I know this room well enough to name every single  
spot, discoloring and tiny crack on the walls and roof. Even now, when  
I strain to ignore what lies outside of the warm, closed-off space  
that is the bed where I lie, I can't help to hear the slithery sounds  
of shadows around me, and I come to wonder if this is how the inside  
of my heart looks like. If I still own one, which is in no way  
certain.

We live comfortably in Metallia's shadow, She who was trapped in a  
void of darkness through the blessed and cursed and wonderfully  
painful power of the White Moon queen.  
That one day, that eternal second while we burned, the moment we were  
both killed and reborn, is the only memory of the time Before that is  
still by me, and no matter how I scream when the nightmares wake me,  
no matter how he laughs when I try to explain what the pain means to  
me, I always feel joyful to remember the short, almost non-existing  
moment before, before the Light turned into eternal Darkness.  
Ah, but then, I thought I wouldn't have to cling to the old, but still  
glorious, defeat, because we insignificant servants to the great demon  
found a way out, a return to daylight. I was...

I was the first to take that leap through emptiness, the first to  
leave shadows and damp caves, and I was greeted by a fresh jewel  
called Earth. Such a blue planet, carrier of life, the planet that is  
our birthright. The rich land which we wished to fill with the same  
dead darkness that has surrounded us all for ages and seeped deep into  
our minds, the new home which would become a symbol of evil, like a  
monstrous hearth beating in the universe, filled with corrupted life.  
That planet should have fallen easily before me!  
No matter how many fires you ignite, the darkness is always there  
first and in the end, black emptiness is all that remain. This  
threatening failure, this chance of a defeat can not be true, it is  
too impossible. And yet, and yet, I am beginning to feel...

"Afraid?"  
His deep voice always make me loose my calm. Sometimes, when he  
breaths small, but too important, words into my ear, I shudder and  
wonder if I can truly stand him another minute, or if I will burn up  
with passion and rage. Sometimes, as in this very moment, when his  
voice has that a harsh, acidic tone I tense and wonder if I can  
survive another moment with that voice hurting me, or if I will be  
consumed and destroyed by my own hate.  
He is a demon, and I should never have shown him my weaknesses because  
now he can play them like the finest instrument, and he never fails to  
know how and where his mocking laughter will hurt the most, where it  
will leave scars that last for eternity. Bastard.

"Of course not," I laugh haughtily, as if I didn't have a single care  
in the world. "They might be able to handle youmas, but one of us?  
Never." Even as I form the words, I feel their truth and know them to  
be real, because am I not one of the four kings? And is it not so,  
that we are invincible, that our darkness is an impenetrable shield?  
Yes, that is the truth, the only truth! So... why do you wish that the  
evening will never come, mighty king?  
"Little girls, trying to stand against me even as they cry over lost  
love and the unfair world. Why should I even consider fear?"

Shadows all around me. In this room, not even the eerie glow of  
unforgivable sins and dreadful deeds that fills our kingdom can  
penetrate the darkness. The black curtain shields me from him, but I  
know Nephrite is shaking his head, as I feel the waves of his  
ridiculous long hair tickle my arm. Does he seriously think my failure  
is so predestined that I can't extinguish those children, or is he  
just restless?

"You should fear. Because tonight you will die."  
There is no threat in his voice, no hatred, only cool knowledge that  
makes my blood boil with fury.  
"Your existence will come to an end, and no living being will miss  
you. You will die, mourned by no one and soon you will be forgotten,  
because you have proved yourself weak."

I growl as he falls silent, and the alluring idea to suffocate him  
with the pillow flitters through my head. But I banish the thought,  
likewise the even more tempting idea to crush his windpipe with my  
bare hands.  
Sarcasm makes my voice thick, anger gives it strength and I know I  
sound absolutely ghastly. I hope it makes him uncomfortable, for  
Metallia knows he deserves it.  
"You just had the sudden urge to tell the truth today, or what?"

I bite my tongue. May he be damned. That was not intended to sound  
like it did, I wanted to tell him how he repulses me, I wanted him to  
know that I've never trusted anything he has told me through all these  
years! Shadows and emptiness... Why did it come out like an insurance  
of my fears?  
The control I have over my emotions, the way I've always been able to  
suppress those weakening impulses is something I am proud of, and now  
the control completely eludes me. But then, it is not every day that  
so clearly threatens to be your last, is it?

The feel of his hand touching me, playing with a lock of my hair, is  
unexpected but not displeasing. Nephrite was always fascinated with  
the way I refuse to grow my unruly blond locks like is custom in our  
kingdom, and as the fingers carefully work on a tousle, I realize I  
can clearly hear his heartbeat. At least one of us has a heart, even  
if it's long dead.

"How do you know I was telling the truth?"  
My eyes close, and instead of the ceiling I now stare at the darkness  
behind my eyelids. Black always look the same, but it can feel so  
different depending on the source.  
I know he is telling the truth as he sees it, because the only time he  
has ever stopped lying is to insult someone. But I remain still,  
silent. There is no need for him to know that, and it is useful that  
he has never been able to hide behind his masks when angered enough.  
"Maybe I'm just playing with you, enjoying your fear," he whispers,  
voice velvety, and yet dripping with acid.  
Then the bastard laughs, and the grip in my hair turns painful, the  
gentle hand at once transformed into a claw that attempts to hold my  
entire self in its painful grip.

Too slowly, and completely of its own accord, my hand begins to wander  
towards his chest. Cold and so smooth, like a finely polished crystal  
it feels. The beats of his dark heart echoes through me. Evil like us  
really has no right to look so gloriously attractive, but I can't say  
I'm sad about it.  
"Are you lying, then?"

A tilt of his head, he's distracted, even if only for an eye-blink.  
When he opens his mouth to answer I use my not dismissable strength,  
violently pushing him backwards. Our powers clash as he fights me, but  
this is not something I will give up. Maybe he feels it, or his stars  
told him it was not worth the effort, because a moment later I am  
lying atop of that hard crystal body, and now I am the one to laugh.

Every words is precisely pronounced, sharply cut off but delivered  
faster then he can interrupt. "Whether I'm afraid or not, is none of  
your damn business!"

Through my anger, I enjoy him, and my hands languidly wander over his  
sharp face. To feel these familiar features... it's good. In dimness,  
he shines like one of the nightlights on the sky, in the absence of  
sun or moon only his gleaming eyes can be seen and their aesthetic  
value is not marred by the false body.

Created by Metallia's hatred, we are, and even if I adore and admire  
his crystalline flesh, it makes me even more aware of Her... too  
distracting, the enveloping dark with only these twin sapphires  
shining is so much better.  
In the shadows that protects us, inside the black world where we  
exist, we appear almost alive.

His breath on my face tells me that he is staring, open-mouthed and  
surprised, at me. For a moment we are both still, our mutual  
heartbeats the only sound in the entire kingdom, and the he hisses.  
His gleaming eyes turn into angry slits, and the dark body buckles  
violently under me, furiously attempting to break my grip.  
No such luck for the bastard today.  
Calming down a bit, Nephrite seems to be hesitating about which way to  
take, and I know he wants to see what I have planned before  
responding. I do not intend to let him wait for long.  
Mirroring his earlier actions, I take a doubtlessly painful grip of  
his auburn tresses, twisting them slowly to keep him down.  
I bite my lower lip to hide a small chuckle, but he must have felt the  
shaking of my body. His dismissing glare makes me believe so, at  
least.  
"Feisty, aren't we?"

The lord of the west is completely still for a moment, making me  
wonder if I might finally have won our ancient battle, then he  
snorts... and bites me! Sharp teeth pierce the skin of my right hand,  
and the surprised look in my eyes must have shone even through the  
gloom.

Catlike, his tongue flickers lightly over me hand, and he closes his  
eyes as if to savor the taste.  
"You know," the words are hushed and I must strain to hear them, "that  
will be a shame."  
Baffled confusion, the bastard takes advantage of my momentary daze to  
gnaw off one more piece of the flesh. Damn him, but his teeth are  
sharp.  
I yank free, and smack him lightly across the forehead. Why is he  
acting so strange, why isn't he playing by our age-old rules, that we  
both follow even if we have never spoken them loud?  
Pleasure, pain, all is allowed... except emotions or actions that  
cannot be forgotten when we step outside the corroded doors again.

And then, Nephrite is smearing the scarlet liquid all over his face,  
his hot body pressing closer to me until my cheeks are as red as my  
injured hand.

"All this, all of this..." he licks my hand, and a lazy speculation  
about how I might taste to him floats through my head, before  
Nephrite's voice brings me back to the moment.  
"All this beautiful red blood, staining the ground for no reason,  
spilling over the Earth during a short moment until Metallia takes  
back what belongs to her. And then even this," he deepens the wound  
yet again but I don't bother to care anymore, because his movements  
and touches are too soft to be true, "will be gone. No more Jadeite.  
No more of your sparkling red blood."

Thoughts are difficult to grip, but I force mind and mouth to  
cooperate, because certain false assumptions are too severe to stay  
uncorrected.  
"I absolutely refuse to bleed, whether or not I'm dead by tomorrow  
night," I crisply inform him. "It would be far to shameful to end my  
life in stained clothing."

At this he actually laughs quietly, which angers me slightly. My words  
were not intended as a joke. Sincerely, to die covered in blood like a  
slaughtered animal, that is below a king.  
But I don't feel like trying to explain that to Nephrite, especially  
since I doubt he could understand. But this laughter annoys me, and so  
I firmly press my lips against his to finally silence him.

"Could it be, that you are done tasting my red blood now, hmm?"  
The question hangs in the air for several heartbeats, before I go on  
speaking, my voice having sunk several octaves all by itself.  
"I just wonder, if you are ready to, ah, go on? If I'll die tomorrow,  
and all that," I finish lightly. He will not have the opportunity to  
notice my fears once again.

Again, there is nothing but silence. Nephrite twists so that his hair  
shades all facial features, but two eyes glisten through the locks  
like dark flames, frozen in the moment. In the next instant, his power  
is rising, fast and threateningly. Reflexes honed by millennia of  
dangerous existence suddenly react, and my shields are up before the  
Star King is half finished with whatever spell he has activated.  
Is he going to try and kill me in some twisted attempt to win Beryl's  
favor, I wonder, as sit up, crouching lightly to protect myself.  
But no, such an attack is not something I must fear. He has never been  
the kind to grovel by her feet, and I begin to recognize the structure  
of his magical weave.

Tiny, but sharp, lights fill our chamber, and the image immediately  
brings the night-sky of the Earth into mind. Stars... it's always  
those damn stars. If I had a heart to feel pain in, it would be  
twisting in agonized jealousy by now, considering how much attention  
he spends the unfeeling, unimportant suns of far away.

His mirage caught my attention for a moment, but I've seen and created  
more impressive illusions innumerable times before. His voice on the  
other hand, the way he turns every word into a deep trap of seduction,  
that is something I will never get tired of, no matter how many times  
he baits my senses with it.

"I do believe I'm offended. Here I actually confess that I might miss  
a part of you... not a very large part, admittedly, nor will I mourn  
it for long. But couldn't you have the decency to try and return the,"  
he hesitates, and for a moment the surface of a handsome and suave man  
dwindles, showing the dark predator beneath until he regains his cool  
again, "the compliment?"

Now I understand him, and a fountain of emotions, memories and desires  
spring up in my mind. Stolen blood can be used in several dark  
conjurations, but if it's given... to freely sacrifice the essence of  
your self is a huge risk. But then, he seriously thinks I'll be dead  
by tomorrow, doesn't he?  
An eyebrow rises slowly, and in that moment the gift turned into a  
challenge. The balance has returned, and with a snort I inform  
Nephrite that he is one sick bastard. Shrugging, he pulls me closer  
and begin to kiss me. He has an odd metallic taste... was it so I  
tasted to him, when he took the first drip of my blood. His will taste  
different, I know, and I begin to wonder what beyond the color  
separates our life-fluid.  
When I bite down on those yielding lips, he winces slightly, but after  
that he is completely still. A strong smell whirls around us, driving  
me half delirious and teeth, lips, tongue, all of me must taste him  
and touch him. Not like human blood at all, but I could never mistake  
these dark green drops for anything but what it is.  
Pulling away, just enough to moan a few words in my ear, Nephrite  
mumbles something about us both being sick, and I can't help but grin.  
He does speak the truth only when he is insulting someone.

"So let's be sick a while longer, eh?" I whisper, again nuzzling his  
sore lips, but much more softly this time.  
His taste is both ancient as darkness itself and fresh like the small  
illuminated specks of magic he has created around us, and I wonder if  
it is nothing more then a result of Metallia's magic that also gave  
his blood this odd color, or if he might even have a tiny piece of  
soul hidden somewhere which allows him this purity. Not inside his  
heart, no, that I've come to know completely, and it is a dried up and  
dead as my own, but maybe... maybe far away, floating and resting  
among the stars, lies Nephrite's last fragment of soul and dreams and  
light. Why else would he adore them so?  
Or it is in his skilled hands, that touch me with a gentleness that is  
almost painful following the rough treatment, as we begin to move in  
the familiar rhythm, the only place where we can truly meet beyond  
battle.

"Mhm... so, am I acceptable?"

On such a moronic question, there is really only one kind of answer.  
"Actually, you taste a bit like," I search my vocabulary for something  
green that will annoy, but not insult, "yes, like apples."

In the artificial starlight, I can actually see the reflection of the  
smug smile playing around my lips in his eyes for a moment, before  
they flash with anger and disturb the image. How beautifully his nails  
shine as he slaps me, and the ringing tone in my ears is an  
interesting contrast to the feelings that are beginning to stir deep  
in my groin.  
This time, I don't attempt to fight the reflex to strangle him...

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

We must look like wild animals, rolling among the sheets, clawing and  
hitting. Jadeite fights as he always does, viciously and completely  
focused on the battle. And because of this, because he always get so  
caught up in his own games that he doesn't see the danger behind him,  
he will be dead in a matter of hours.  
It is also the reason that he doesn't notice how I slowly maneuver us  
closer to the edge of the huge bed until I, with a victorious laugh,  
push him down onto the clammy stone floor.  
A moment passes, the only sounds my soft laughter and his hiss of  
anger, before he begins to curse wildly. Please do, let me see the  
fire hidden beneath your ice...

Sitting up, he attacks me with a bolt of dark energy, that harmlessly  
fizzes over my head as I smoothly dodge.  
"Metallia damn you!"  
His sudden outburst is filled with hate and passion, how am I supposed  
to stop the laughter bubbling up with renewed force? For a moment,  
everything he is can be read in those eyes, glowing like blue stars,  
before it all freezes into a sneer. Does he know, how beautiful I find  
his emotions, and how much I despise that bloodless mask? Is that why  
he so often wears it?  
My blond fiend attacks me again, and I meet him strike for strike, and  
for the blink of an eye it feels as if this fight that has been going  
on since the beginning of my time in the darkness will never end, and  
suddenly one of us makes a mistake, everything is over, and I grab his  
hands, capturing and preserving them in my own.

"Che. You will die tonight, Jadeite. Your defense is worthless." When  
I kiss him, he tries to claw me eyes out, which I find very rude.

"Hate you, bastard," he mumbles, the insult that is so old it has  
turned into a endearment making my heart constrict with something  
close to pain for a second. We have no emotional ties between us,  
except dusty hate that another dares to threaten the position we have.  
I am not so weak that I will miss his willowy body, or his deep voice.  
He will die, I know it and yet I don't care... how could there ever be  
something between monsters like us, except this purely physical  
relief?

We share another kiss, soft lips pressed together with a desperate  
urgency, and I can't remember who began this round of our game anew.  
This comfortable and familiar game, that this time has taken a few  
unexpected and unwanted turns.  
For my illusionist to calm down so quickly is very unusual, and with  
sudden clarity I realize that he must be truly terrified of the  
future, of Beryl's disgusting threat and the upcoming fight by  
midnight.  
Has he already give up? No, not Jadeite. He will accept his end no  
more resigned than I would.

Hands are wonderful, beautiful parts of our bodies, especially when  
they are slim, deadly and belong to a certain blond-haired man who is  
oh, so very skilled with them!  
They're wandering deeper, leaving a trail of fire as they go, and I  
must stop it for a moment, stop him and kiss those soft fingers before  
I can let them go back to their work.  
In this somber, dark place two damned spirits shouldn't be allowed to  
feel such comfort in each other, but as I groan helplessly all caution  
and animosity flies away.

"Like it?" he questions as his hands reach their final destination,  
and my world begins to gently spin. Or is he just pushing me over,  
reclaiming the leading position again? I don't know, couldn't care  
less. Let him have his fun the short time he has left...

"No," I whisper, "should I?" Then I must kiss him, urgently, before he  
causes some permanent damage.

"Liar!" The fire has returned to him, and this time it is not fueled  
only by hate. I nod, and sweetly ask him to prove me wrong.  
Heat is building, coming close to uncomfortable because it is such a  
rare warmth, that I will never get familiar with, and I know I must  
taste him, now! Not just that gorgeous blood, no, all of his clean,  
humanlike and yet so alien body... my hands roam over what feels like  
muscles and bone, feeling and enjoying the perfection. Even as the  
rational part of me knows that it is only Metallia's handiwork, my  
weak emotional self cries that he is exquisite in himself, and I must  
agree.

Then, at once, we release each other, and the only contact between our  
bodies is my mouth at his throat, before I moan with need and he  
crushes me closer, answering in the same way. Hearts beating, hands  
exploring, eyes admiring, and still I need more.

My concentration is wavering, and our lights flicker and die in tact  
with his tongue on my nipples. Who needs light anyway, I know him from  
head to heel and as the friction between us grow, I gasp for air,  
preparing to forget everything except the moment. And then he looks at  
me, painfilled eyes overflowing with helpless rage drilling a deep  
hole inside of me and I know this is the last time. Ever.  
He continues, and I touch him, but the purpose has changed. I am  
desperate to imprint all of him onto my fingertips, for the day when I  
no longer have my... ah, what is he? Lover, enemy, companion, rival,  
all of this and more. My most hated friend.  
And yet, even as I begin to twist under him, clawing and moaning  
incoherent words of encouragement, I know that I'll never help him,  
that even with our past casting its shadow over the present, it's not  
enough to awaken this dead heart.  
And he'll die, and I should be happy because a competitor for power  
will have lost his place in favor of me, and I'll be so... Stars, I'll  
be alone?

Hard breathing, and as a trembling hand strokes my face I my eyes  
open. How can anything born in darkness have such a glorious light as  
his evil?  
"Stop it," he croaks, voice not obeying properly anymore, "Stop  
thinking, Nephrite." And then he slips lower, kneeling between my  
legs, fingers touching everywhere.

"Then," and it takes all my strength to manage these words, "stop me."  
He begins to kiss me there, and more blood is spilled as my teeth  
break the newly healed skin of my lips. Why must he be so slow? But it  
is so wonderful, he knows me better then I do after all these years,  
and at the moment I would allow anything. And then he tastes me, and I  
buckle helplessly under his strong hands, that have had so many  
wonderful years of practice on me, years that will end too son... but  
not before he has done use of that practice, not before he has torn me  
to pieces with his mouth and hands and the impossible warmth that  
hides inside of him, in hands, lips, skin and beauty, a warmth that  
burns when his teeth lightly scrape along me, a heat that comforts  
when his mouth envelopes me.  
I scream, and if I hadn't I would have burned up, and it all feels  
so... very... good.

"I refuse to die tomorrow!" he screams, shattering the fiery dream, as  
he sits up, leaving me needing, wanting, craving his body. Damn that  
blond fool, may he be torn to pieces slowly, and let me watch and  
enjoy all of it! Great Metallia, I hate him!

Jadeite is hovering above me, his own need as evident as mine, and  
still he refuses to give in, clings instead to fury and fear, and I  
must kiss him, even if it means that I'll have to force him down.  
But slowly, he begins to answer, and the fire never went away after  
all, the future is unimportant and nothing matters except these  
touches, these lazy kisses and fierce strokes, until he with a  
agonized howl that could be passion or fear, or both, collapses  
against me.

Something whet is dripping onto my shoulder where his head rests  
against me, and it is almost enough to awake the forgotten feeling of  
compassion. Almost, but I'm burning and I want him and I don't have  
time for this right now!

"I wont die," a half-choked voice whispers.

"It's not like it's up to you!" I snarl, angered beyond reason that he  
is breaking the pact. Why must you attempt to force feelings inside of  
me?

Jadeite wipes away the escaped tear, and his familiar control returns,  
hiding fear and rage behind a grim smile.  
"Lie to me, you bastard. Lie to me one last time," he asks, and then  
thank the stars, I feel his mouth descend on me again.  
Can't answer him, can't think at all. Just feel him, need him,  
immediately.  
"You're... ahh, not... not die!" I finally manage to gasp. Someone is  
shouting, I clutch his hand to avoid drowning in passion and then he  
brings it to an end, oh, please, let the stars explode around me,  
yes... yes!

After a minor eternity, I realize that I'm staring at the ceiling , no  
longer gasping for breath. My blond lover is lying beside me, his hair  
a sweaty mass, half-shading of his face.  
I cautiously stretch out a hand, and wipe away a few glistening drops  
from his lips, feeling a small kiss touch me just as I'm finished  
wiping him off.

The need is sated, and I'm feeling generous at the moment.  
"Want me to lie some more for you?"  
Ah, stars, have my brain gone as slack as my body? Since when do I  
ever offer Jadeite something he asks for?  
No answer, he merely turns around, and lies there with wide empty  
eyes. So still he is, that if it weren't for the slight rising and  
sinking of his chest, I'd have reason to wonder...  
Cold as ice again, are you?

We lie in the darkness for several heartbeats, hearing each others  
breathing. He is glaring at the ceiling so intensely that I begin to  
wonder what those unfortunate stones ever did to him, and I'm looking  
at Jadeite, waiting. I'm certain he'll talk sooner or later, never had  
as much patience as I.

Well then, finally.  
Blue eyes close, and he mumbles a few incoherent words. I wait a while  
longer, before asking him to repeat himself.

"I said, go ahead if you feel like it."

Slight confusion, before I remember my earlier question.  
When did he become so weak, to give himself over to fear? I feel a  
kind of pity for this so-called king, but also contempt. We did stand  
together once, the glorious four, and if one can fall...

I have begun to talk without really giving act on my words. It's too  
easy, spin a tail of honor and glory; a tale that doesn't end in the  
evening come, with a silly little girl's triumph at a barren field.  
"When you return, bringing the head of this Sailor Moon, queen Beryl  
will be very pleased. She'll even promote you, and at the same time  
get ride of that little good-for-nothing rat of Kunzite's. Actually,  
she'll remove them both, and I'll take the first rang with you as  
second."

A harsh laughter, over the impossibility of it all and that I can't  
forget my old vendetta with our resident pretty boy. So what? If he  
wants a lie, I'll give him an immense one.  
"And then, the other girl will come after you..."

"Other girls. They are three now," he murmurs.

"One twit more or less, who cares. It only means you'll have more  
energy to present to the great Metallia once you've drained them, and  
following the removal of the children, we will take over the world.  
And our great mistress will awaken from her sleep, observe our  
progress and grant us all of her dark magic."  
As Jadeite laughingly asks what follows, I realize need a good end.  
Horridly cliché as this tale is, I'm too much of a story-teller to  
just leave it hanging.  
"The demon will be so pleased in her dark heart with our work, that  
she removes queen Beryl and send us out in the universe as conquerors.  
We will travel far, extinguish all light we meet and then..." I'm at a  
loss, for in this dreamed future there are no enemies left to kill,  
are there?  
"...and then I'll tell you that I love you. The end."

Dead silence, his laughter ended so abruptly that I wonder if he's  
choked on something. Then, in phase with the blood that rushes to my  
face, I realize exactly how I ended my little lie. He mouthing  
something, to low even for my ears to catch, but I'm certain that my  
friend is using up every curse he's learned over the years. To speak  
is difficult, because my lips are crackling dry, but I swallow the  
bitterness and smile. False innocence.

"Was it a good lie?"

Sitting up, he stares at me, and I could never read all that flickers  
in his icy eyes in this moment.  
Then he nods, hesitantly at first but soon the familiar arrogance has  
returned.  
"Quite entertaining, but a bit exaggerated. And now," he drapes  
himself across me, hot breath playing over my throat, "I do believe  
it's my turn again."

A grin flies over my features, I begin to feel that special longing  
grow inside. There's no objection from his side as I give him a  
smoldering kiss, but as his hands begin to explore me, I can help but  
whisper a few spiteful words.  
Every syllable works like a brush that paints a tiny fraction of  
twisting, screaming emotions on an icy canvas... What would you do, if  
I weren't lying?

I enjoy this, to watch his helpless confusion, and even though I try  
to stop it, knowing he'll realize my game, an expression that must  
look truly wicked come over me. But for once, this man that I have  
shared an existence with in eons, reacts differently as I expected.  
Neither does he hide inside his uncaring shell, nor does his temper  
ignite, leading to yet another of our battles. Seemingly absentminded,  
he presses the bloody hand against my lips, before giving me a chaste  
kiss between the eyes.  
"I hate you, for now and eternity. You- you're always such bastard!"

I press a finger against his chest, pushing him away to see his eyes,  
but they're hidden by untamed bangs. A shame, I'd love to see his  
expression right now.  
"And you, my dear Jadeite, are a fool. A dead fool."

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

I have discovered something new, a feature of his appearance that I  
have overseen all these millennia... How can his iris contain so many  
colors, all glistening like precious jewels?  
Such beauty, and yet in his eyes there is nothing but the same old  
malice as in his overconfident smile.  
It doesn't fit.

Nothing fits anymore.

One of us broke the familiar pattern, and the time is too short to  
pick up the pieces and properly arrange them again. *My* time is to  
short, for this and everything else.

Our kisses deepen, but I can't let the physical contact wash away my  
thoughts. The careless words from before twirl in my head, and along  
with the heat that Nephrite wakes inside, I feel drunk. Can you get  
drunk on despair?

I need him.  
No, not him, I'll never need this lying, back-stabbing bastard! I'd  
rather die... I'd rather die then even for a moment rely on the king  
of stars.  
What could anyone need from him? Not his uncaring stars, not his  
taunts nor any of the worthless lies that spill from his mouth.  
Just his body, immediately, anyone's body to forget the flaming queen  
and that stupid child and tomorrow night. Great Metallia, tomorrow  
night...

"I hate you," I whisper again, and somehow all my emotions fit inside  
those words.  
Kisses deepen, and my fingers softly explores him. He's so hot, so  
soft.  
An illusion, it's all an illusion, but I can't care with Nephrite's  
warmth around my fingers, haven't got the energy to fear the future  
anymore.

We're growling, biting and clawing at each other, for a moment letting  
out the beasts that hide inside us. His eyes are burning with fury and  
lust, it feels as if I'm kissing a spirit of fire.  
Pressed close together, our minds are for once following the same  
goal, and we have found the ancient rhythm.

Nephrite moans slowly when my second finger enters him, and the small  
sounds excite me beyond belief... I still have this power over him,  
even if everything else is falling apart.  
What twisted power might he have over me? Too much, certainly, if  
something as physical as this can drive my heartbeat so wild that I  
wonder if my chest will spring apart.

"Nhh..." No words, no clear thoughts, they have all escaped me, I only  
know that he's closing himself for me, and a sharp hiss escapes one of  
us.  
Somehow, I manage to loosen my hand from the tangles of his hair, and  
hold the half-healed wound before him, silently suggesting...

A shudder, a smile, and then his teeth tear my flesh open, again and  
again until that red blood he so adores is flowing. I must kiss him  
before this scream breaks free, and nothing but need exists, the need  
for him. I must have him, conquer my crystalline lover in all ways  
possible!

Red spots have stained his strong chest, and I adoringly taste my  
blood and his sweat. So good, how can he be so good when he's nothing  
but a cruel bastard?

And then, with slow thrusts and wanton sounds, he urges me on even  
more and time grows too short. Touch him, have him! My lips taste  
Nephrite, I'm growing frantic, just touch him everywhere, smear blood  
deep inside as well as over the soft flesh, and he is like ice set  
aflame... burning, we are burning together.

Open yourself to me, yes, let me feel this, give me the only thing  
you've ever given me and be for a moment my most precious star in this  
eternal darkness, oh please, don't ever stop moving, never make my  
screams come to a halt, burn for me, with me!  
That you have this power over me is wrong, that is why I hate you,  
hate you, hate you, that is why I need you like nothing else, your  
tight heat that drives me delirious with want and anger and for a  
blinding moment you're everything, yes, perfection, and then I  
remember that I'll die, and nothing matters anymore because I'll die!  
I'm sobbing, screaming as I come deep inside you, and the world is  
nothing but you, me and burning red blood and we're crying and  
screaming with one voice, finally, and then we're laughing together,  
yes, yes, perfect...

Tired throughout my bones, I'm lying atop of Nephrite and my breathing  
is slowly returning to normal. He's holding me, crushing me closer,  
and I know he's smiling.

"Shadows and emptiness," is that me talking? Yes, must be, "I'll be  
damned if I die!"

"Too late..." his voice sounds as tired as I feel, but despite that he  
pushes me away slightly, forcing me to lift my head and look at him.  
Ah, the old pride of the starmaster, can't allow himself to stay like  
this, must test me and taunt me again. Doesn't matter, I feel to good  
to care right now, it's all so good here and now, and can hardly  
remember that anything else exists. Just passionate fire and then this  
warm glow, and I wonder if I'll ever need more?

So beautiful from afar, so dangerous up close; goes for us all but  
especially for Nephrite. I whisper this in his ear, telling him how  
I've always seen him, my hated lover... a burning nova he is, the  
dying star that draws everything nearby with itself into hell.  
A kiss, he is caressing me with such uncharacteristic mildness and his  
eyes don't reveal a thing. And, why must he break this peace, still  
with a innocent smile on his lips, he writes something in the blood on  
my hand.

I stare at it, realization comes crashing down... yes, death and dusk,  
both are nearing for me. The harsh world has returned and I smile  
ironically, knowing what he must be thinking. King of stars or not, he  
isn't the one who will go up in flames for a last time before the sun  
rises again.

So familiar in its deepness, his voice sooths me, but even I can hear  
the hidden cruelty and see the complete lack of compassion in his soft  
smile. In the end, we are all alone, alone in cold darkness.

"Afraid?"

I don't answer... don't have to.


End file.
